


Spring Fever

by Zana_Zira



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bad Puns, Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Caretaking, Caring Gladiolus Amicitia, Caring Noctis, Caring Prompto, Common Cold, Coughing, Fever, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Ignis Needs A Break, Ignis Scientia Whump, Ignis works too hard, Noctis Is Going To Make Sure He Takes One, Sick Ignis Scientia, Sickfic, Sleepy Boys, Sneezing, Whump, promnis if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26453683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zana_Zira/pseuds/Zana_Zira
Summary: “Ignis, hold up,” Gladio called to him before he could make his way into the hall. Ignis turned to face him, resolutely ignoring the way the sudden movement made his head swim.“Yes?”“Iggy…” the Shield began. “You look terrible.”“My, how kind of you t –hih-TCH!– to say so,” he answered drily, turning away to cough into the crook of his elbow.“No, don’t joke, okay? You’ve spent the last hour looking like you’re about to fall over, and I’m glad you asked for a break on your own because I’m pretty sure King Regis was going to call a medic for you if you’d waited about ten more seconds. Go take some medicine and get a power nap in, or hell, just take the weekend off. Noct’s a big boy, he can handle himself, and you need to take it easy before you get worse.”In which 19-year-old Ignis is under the weather, Gladio's suggestion that he should rest is ignored, and Prompto and Noctis are thankfully there to catch him when he finally falls.(This fic is gen, but can be read as the beginnings of Prompto x Ignis if you so choose.)
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Ignis Scientia, Ignis Scientia & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Prompto Argentum
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	Spring Fever

“So, Your Majesty, based on the recent surveys conducted by my team, it can be concluded that our initiative to convert the old industrial complexes in Sector W to low-income housing was a resounding success, and was accomplished well below budget. The best course of action, therefore, is to proceed with –”

_“Heh-KSHH!”_

The Commissioner of City Planning halted his speech, which had droned on for nearly an hour thus far with nary an end in sight, and turned a heated glare toward the unwelcome interruption of his long-winded ramblings.

Aforementioned interruption, or Ignis Scientia as he preferred to be known, dabbed at the tip of his nose with a black handkerchief embroidered in gold, mildly embarrassed but also inwardly grateful for the way the sudden silence eased his pounding headache ever so slightly. The man’s voice was grating even on a good day, and considering Ignis had spent the majority of the previous night battling for just a few minutes of sleep between bouts of coughing and sneezing, today was most certainly _not_ one of those.

“My apologies, Commissioner Cupiditas.” He said it with as much sincerity as he could muster, resisting the urge to twitch his nose as it tickled once more. “I believe all of the spring flowers have given me a touch of hay fever.”

“Indeed,” the man sneered, peering down his hooked nose at Prince Noctis’s nineteen-year-old advisor the way one might examine a mess a dog had left on an expensive rug. “Well, do try to keep any more… outbursts… quiet, won’t you? I don’t wish to be distracted and miss relaying any information, as it’s quite vital to the health and stability of Insomnian infrastructure.”

“Oh, indubitably,” Ignis agreed, this time allowing just enough sarcasm to seep into his tone to earn a near-inaudible snort across the table from Gladio yet still avoid being accused of any impropriety.

He straightened his spectacles over his nose and dutifully resumed taking notes, blinking rapidly to clear the blurry film that seemed to be encroaching into his field of vision. No matter how much he and Prince Noctis detested this old blowhard (and he secretly suspected that His Majesty felt much the same), it was still crucial that the Prince be kept up on the goings-on of all council meetings held at the Citadel, especially those he could not attend due to his schooling. As such, it was Ignis’s responsibility – his honor, really – to attend in His Highness’s stead, and he’d be damned if he was going to allow something as insignificant as a fit of allergies to stand in his way.

A few minutes after the Commissioner had resumed his self-aggrandizement, Ignis felt his cell phone buzz from the pocket of his suit jacket. He removed it as inconspicuously as possible, not eager to draw attention to himself yet again, and powered on the screen. The sight of one unopened message from Gladio was puzzling, given the man was sitting just feet away, but he discretely opened it, forcing himself not to smirk when he noticed the Shield had apparently altered their chat names in his phone – again – without Ignis’s noticing.

GETGLADNOTMAD: [1:13pm] U okay Iggy?

ISTUPEO: [1:14pm] I’m quite alright, Gladiolus. Merely some springtime allergies, but I appreciate your concern.

GETGLADNOTMAD: [1:15pm] :/

GETGLADNOTMAD: [1:15pm] why do I not believe u?

ISTUPEO: [1:16pm] If I were to hazard a guess, I would say it is because you are a generally distrustful human being.

GETGLADNOTMAD: [1:20pm] Ha ha, smartass. Seriously tho, don’t overdo it. If you need a break you can say so yknow.

Ignis sighed, which he abruptly realized was not the best course of action he could have taken when it immediately sent him into a fit of croupy, barking coughs. He did his best to swallow them down, but the effort proved futile and only left him hacking harder for the effort, his handkerchief doing little at all to muffle the unpleasant sound. A few moments later he felt a hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes to see Gladio offering him a glass of water and, to his utter humiliation, every pair of eyes including those of the King pointed directly at him.

He shrugged Gladio’s hand away with as much dignity as he could manage, taking a few cautious sips and wincing when the water scraped its way down his esophagus like a strip of coarse-grit sandpaper. Finally the urge to cough passed and he was able to draw a few cautious breaths without starting all over again.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, Commissioner” he began with remorse as he nodded to each in turn, hating the way his voice rasped and threatened to crack like he was freshly entering puberty again. “This came on rather suddenly. If I may request just a brief recess –”

“I hardly think –”

“Of course,” King Regis interrupted, cutting off whatever retort Cupiditas had been preparing with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I was about to suggest the same. I’m afraid it’s growing rather late, and I’m sure many of you are as impatient to begin the afternoon meal as I am.” The small crowd chuckled good-naturedly. “We’ll break for one hour, and then when we resume we shall hear the reports from the Departments of Sanitation and Public Safety. I do apologize, Commissioner, but we will have to continue this discussion at a later date. In the meantime, I will consider the information you have presented thus far.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” the man answered rather petulantly, and Ignis suppressed a laugh at the sour look on his face.

With that everyone began hastily making their way out of the meeting room, eager to stretch their legs and have lunch before the next round of meetings could begin. Ignis nearly groaned as he slipped his notes into his briefcase and locked it tightly. While he normally enjoyed learning as much about Lucian politics as he could, today’s meeting had been far more trying than usual, and if he was honest with himself he wanted nothing more than to return home and curl up under his Chocobo-down duvet until whatever this was ran its course.

“Ignis, hold up,” Gladio called to him before he could make his way into the hall. Ignis turned to face him, resolutely ignoring the way the sudden movement made his head swim.

“Yes?”

“Iggy…” the Shield began. “You look terrible.”

“My, how kind of you t – _hih-TCH!_ – to say so,” he answered drily, turning away to cough into the crook of his elbow.

“No, don’t joke, okay? You’ve spent the last hour looking like you’re about to fall over, and I’m glad you asked for a break on your own because I’m pretty sure King Regis was going to call a medic for you if you’d waited about ten more seconds. Go take some medicine and get a power nap in, or hell, just take the weekend off. Noct’s a big boy, he can handle himself, and you need to take it easy before you get worse.”

Ignis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and doing everything in his power to will his burgeoning stress headache out of existence.

“That’s all well and good in theory, but when exactly would you propose I find the time to ‘take it easy?’ Today was the final day of exams for the school year, and I already promised Noct that if he and Prompto scored well I would ensure there were snacks and video games waiting so that they could spend the weekend celebrating. I’ve only an hour before they’ll need to be picked up from school, which means if I intend to have everything prepared for the evening I’ll need to begin immediately.”

“Well that’s all well and good,” Gladio parroted, “but why not move it to next weekend when you’re feeling better? Or just give them some money to go see a movie or play games at the arcade? I’m sure they’d like that just as much.”

“Please, Gladiolus,” Ignis huffed. “I haven’t the time to argue this with you. You know as well as I why that simply won’t be possible.”

The reason, were Ignis to speak it aloud, would be his refusal to break a promise to Prompto Argentum.

A year ago, Ignis never could have imagined he would witness Noctis gaining such a close friend as Prompto. Over the school term the two teens bonded in a way the advisor had never seen from his liege before. While Ignis might have initially been suspicious of his motives for working his way into the good graces of the royal family, eventually even he found himself growing rather fond of Prompto. For all that he may have lacked in terms of a cultured upbringing and knowledge of the inner workings of Lucian noble society, Prompto made up for it with his simple, genuine love of life and everything in it. He was kind, loyal, generous to a fault, and cared deeply for anyone who reciprocated his affection. He was, as Gladio had once phrased it, “a perpetual freakin’ ray of sunshine,” and his boundless enthusiasm and compassion awoke a joyous, carefree side of Noctis that Ignis had feared lost long ago.

That alone was enough to earn and secure a permanent place of friendship in the advisor’s heart. Over time it meant he also learned more about Prompto’s background, including the fact that his adoptive parents were more often than not stationed overseas in Altissia for their work. This, of course, meant Prompto spent extended stretches of time alone in his home, working multiple part-time jobs in addition to his schooling in order to keep food on the table and a roof over his head. The knowledge awoke a furious fire in Ignis’s heart, and made him protective of the younger boy in a way he had never experienced except with Noctis, his brother in all but blood. While he knew it wasn’t his place to disparage Prompto’s parents or upbringing, he had still privately brought the matter to Gladio’s attention. They had secretly resolved to incorporate the blond into their lives, as well as Noct’s, as often as they possibly could, in the hopes of mitigating some of the loneliness Ignis knew Prompto always felt but tried valiantly to hide from them.

Prompto had spent many an evening at Noctis’s apartment over the school year, playing games and studying for his courses between shifts at work. Ignis always made sure to prepare a hot meal for the two of them, and assisted them both with their studies. Prompto had struggled immensely with Lucian history, a subject in which he and Noct were understandably well-versed, so they had tutored him as much as they could, and by the end of the semester he had raised his grade from a C- to a B+. With a high score on this final exam, he had the potential to finish the course with an A for the first time in his life, and Ignis had no doubt he could do so. And, as he knew what an enormous accomplishment this was for Prompto and that he would have no one waiting at home to celebrate his achievement, Ignis made it his mission to ensure he received the kudos he deserved.

He knew, were he to cancel this evening’s plans, that Prompto would never make a fuss. That wasn’t surprising; the boy never wanted to ruffle any feathers, or risk upsetting the people he cared about. But Ignis could imagine that overly-bright, falsely cheerful smile, the one Prompto always used to try to cover up his own hurt, and felt a pang in his chest at the thought.

No. The burdens Noctis carried were many, and would only grow heavier with time. Prompto was the first friend he had chosen for himself, a source of comfort that Ignis and Gladiolus, however much they might wish to, could never truly provide. Those boys deserved to celebrate whatever and whenever they could. If it meant Ignis had to “take one for the team” one in a while, then so be it.

Gladio sighed, raking his fingers through his dark hair. “Yeah, I know, you’re right,” he grumbled as he crossed his arms. “You really do spoil those two, y’know. But you need to relax, at least a little bit, or you’re gonna get way sicker than you are now. So I tell you what, why don’t I at least go and pick them up from school for you? Then you can do whatever you need to do over at Noct’s, and take a few minutes to relax before they get there.”

Ignis released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That would be perfect. Thank you, Gladi- _ah… ah… achoo!_ …Gladio.”

“Yeah, yeah, no prob. Seriously, though, get going so you can get done, and then go home and rest. I mean it, Iggy.”

Ignis bowed at the waist with a flourish and a smothered cough that made Gladio roll his eyes. “As you wish, Lord Amicitia.”

**_~FFXV~_ **

“Dude, I am sooooo glad to be out of school!” Prompto enthused from the passenger seat of Gladio’s SUV, turning around so he could grin at Noctis while he snapped a selfie for his Insomniagram.

“No kidding,” Noctis replied with a yawn, stretching his arms lazily above his head and tipping over to lie on his side across the middle bench seat. “Gotta be honest, if we didn’t have a game night planned I’d be going straight home and taking a nap until Monday.”

“Who needs sleep when you have the new Assassin’s Creed? I can’t believe Iggy got us an advance copy! How does he always manage to do stuff like that?!”

“He’s secretly a super-powered cyborg trying to pass as human,” Noctis whispered dramatically, and Gladio snorted.

“He’s plenty human,” the Shield grumbled under his breath.

Noctis raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“Nothin’. Just thinking about what I have to do after I drop you guys off. Speaking of, we’re here.” He pulled up in front of the high-security apartment building, waving to the doorman stationed at the entrance who they all pretended not to know was a Crownsguard in plainclothes.

“Thanks for the ride, Gladio!” Prompto called over his shoulder as he hopped out; Noctis, not far behind his friend, returned the nod his Shield gave him with a lazy wave.

“Come crash the party later if you get time.”

“Yeah, I might take you up on that. Thanks,” Gladio answered. Once Noctis and Prompto reached the entrance he pulled away from the curb and drove off to resume his training at the Citadel, and the two of them headed up to Noctis’s apartment.

Prompto stopped so abruptly when he stepped over the threshold that Noctis almost ran into his back, unable to do anything but gape at the spread Ignis had prepared while they were away.

The first thing he saw was the enormous black silk banner hanging over the dining table with the words “Congratulations, You Survived Finals!” sewn into it with fancy gold embroidery thread. Balloons in traditional Insomnian black and gold floated in strategic locations all around the room. Streamers cascaded from the ceiling and framed the walls around the enormous flat-screen TV at the far end of the room, and the new Assassin’s Creed game sat cradled in a display easel beside it just waiting for them to begin playing. The dining table was covered in a black satin tablecloth trimmed with gold, and between the balloons and confetti on the tabletop sat an array of snacks, including many Ignis would usually have forbidden: bowls of chips; cheddar- and caramel-coated popcorn; multiple cans of at least three flavors of soda lined up in perfect rows; a platter of various finger sandwiches; a fluffy chiffon cake with freshly prepared whipped cream in a bowl on the side; and a bottle of sparkling cider beside two crystal champagne flutes.

“Duuuuude,” Prompto exclaimed, grinning at Noct and receiving a warm smile in return, “Iggy is _awesome!_ ”

“Why thank you, Prompto,” the advisor said warmly, stepping around the corner from where he had apparently been folding laundry in Noctis’s room. “I take it everything is to your liking?”

“Uh, _yeah_ it is!”

“You’ve outdone yourself, as usual,” Noctis added, already plating a couple of the sandwiches and heading toward the bowls of chips.

“Yes, well, I felt it was a well-deserved treat. After all, today was the day you _finally_ completed your _final_ finals.”

 _“Iggyyy…” “Speeeecs…”_ Prompto and Noctis whined in unison.

“Apologies, I don’t mean to _test_ your patience.”

“Specs, _stahp_ ,” Noctis groaned.

“Alright, alright,” Ignis chuckled, coughing quietly into his fist. “In any case, how did your exams turn out?”

“Pretty good,” Noctis answered nonchalantly. “Should have straight A’s again, except maaaybe in P.E. Still waiting to hear back on whether they’ll excuse that rope-climbing test I missed when we had to attend that charity event last month.”

Ignis smiled and nodded, stifling another cough. “Very good. I know His Majesty will be pleased to hear it. And you, Prompto?”

Prompto cleared his throat nervously, shifting from foot to foot as he waited to make sure his voice wouldn’t crack with excitement when he spoke. “It… it went great! Thanks to you guys I got an A on my Lucian History exam! Watch out, Noct, there’s another set of straight A’s in the house now!”

He made the “finger-guns” motion at Noctis, who chuckled and rolled his eyes, and then froze when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He whipped his head around, shocked to see super-un-touchy-feely Ignis on the other end of that hand. He was smiling broadly, another unusual sight, and Prompto felt his face heat up at being the center of attention all of a sudden.

“Well done, Prompto, truly. We all knew you had it in you.”

“Aww, c’mon, Ignis, you know it was just ‘cause you two helped me study almost every day. I’d never have passed without you.”

Ignis tutted and shook his head. “Nonsense. Take credit where credit is due. You put in an immense amount of work on your own as well, and you should be proud.”

“Yeah, wha’ Shpecs shaid,” Noctis mumbled, talking with his mouth full of sandwich before catching Ignis’s reproachful look and making sure to chew and swallow before he spoke again. “And you helped me with algebra and geometry, so you even returned the favor!”

“I… thanks, guys.”

“Now, then,” Ignis added when he noticed Noctis going for a slice of the cake. “Don’t fill up on too many snacks, gentlemen. I’ll be popping a roast in the oven at five o’clock, so be sure to save some r- _heh…_ some room for s- _heh… HETSHOO!_ …supper. Apologies,” he finished with a delicate sniffle, dabbing gently at his nose with a handkerchief.

“Bless you! Are you getting sick?” Come to think of it, Ignis _did_ look kind of pale, and his voice was a little deeper than Prompto was used to hearing it…

“Thank you, but I’m quite alright, Prompto. Just a touch of springtime allergies.”

“Isn’t it a little late for allergies, though? Most of the trees stopped blooming weeks ago.”

“Apparently it isn’t too late for mine,” Ignis answered, neatly folding his handkerchief back into his shirt pocket. “Well, I have some cleaning to do yet if you’re to have company overnight, Noct, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just be in the other room. Enjoy yourselves until dinner.”

“Yeah, thanks Specs!”

Noctis made his way over to the TV and Prompto followed close behind, excited to start playing Assassin’s Creed, but frowned when he heard another muffled sneeze from the direction of the bathroom.

“Noct? You sure Iggy’s okay?” he whispered. “He sounds a little under the weather.”

Noctis sighed, clearly familiar with this scenario. “Yeah, sounds like he’s got a cold or something. You can’t say anything to him about it, though – I know from experience he’ll just pretend he’s fine and work twice as hard to prove it until he falls over. Best to just let him get done here and then he can spend the weekend sleeping it off.”

“Does he not believe in sick days or something? Surely even Ignis needs a break sometimes.”

Noctis huffed a humorless laugh. “Have you _met_ Ignis? He pretty much defined the word ‘workaholic.’”

“Yeah, I guess. I just feel bad that he’d go to all that trouble for us when he isn’t feeling well. Hopefully he’ll –”

_CRASH!_

Prompto and Noctis both startled at the noise of something – or by the sound of it, several somethings – smashing to the floor in the other room. Amongst the sounds of various bottles and boxes clattering to the ground, probably from the medicine cabinet, there had also been a dull, heavy thud, almost like –

“IGGY!” Prompto shouted, out of his seat and dashing toward the bathroom before he even completely registered what he was doing. When he rounded the corner, Noctis right behind him, he gasped in horror. A shelf that normally sat above the commode and held toiletries and spare bath towels was now lying on top of it; the contents had scattered out across the counter and floors and into the tub. Next to the toilet was a small overturned stepstool, and beside it was Ignis, lying sprawled out on his back on the white tile. He seemed to be unconscious and was half-covered by the shower curtain, which he had apparently pulled down in an effort to stop his fall. A pool of blood was slowly spreading out from a deep gash on the side of his head, and when Noctis knelt down beside him and gently touched the edge of the wound to get a better look, Ignis groaned softly but didn’t move.

“Oh gods, oh _shit_ , Iggy! Noct, what do we do?!”

“Damn it all, Specs,” Noctis growled under his breath, motioning for Prompto to kneel beside him while he summoned a crystalline bottle into existence from the Armiger. “Prom, can you prop up his head while I look at him? I don’t think he needs to go to the infirmary, but I want to make sure he doesn’t have any broken bones or a concussion before I give him a potion, in case anything sets wrong.”

“O-okay. Yeah, yeah I can do that.” He grabbed one of the big fluffy towels that had fallen from the shelf and gently lifted Ignis’s head so he could prop it underneath. As he did so Ignis’s eyes fluttered open before he squeezed them shut again with a pained groan. “Iggy! Are you okay? No, no, don’t get up,” he said, pressing gently on Ignis’s shoulders to keep him lying down as he instinctively tried to raise himself up. “You hit your head when you fell. Noct’s gotta check you out before you get up, okay?”

Ignis coughed and then hissed in pain before blinking blearily up at them. “Noct? Prom… pto? I… I fell?”

“Yeah, Specs, you fell,” Noctis said gently, brushing a few loose strands of hair back from Ignis’s forehead so he could take a closer look at the wound. “I’m gonna give you a potion in a second, but I need to make sure you’re okay. Tell me if any of this hurts, alright?”

Ignis nodded in response. Noctis carefully picked up each of his limbs, gently bending the knees and elbows and running his hands over the ankles and wrists to tests for breaks or sprains. When he touched Ignis’s right wrist the advisor hissed, involuntarily drawing his arm closer to his chest.

“Sore?” Noctis asked, concerned.

“Yes, very. I’m not sure if it’s broken or not, but –” He tried to bend the joint and sucked in another pained breath. Noctis bit his lip and Prompto blanched – they had both _definitely_ seen something moving under the skin in a way it shouldn’t have. “Yes,” the advisor gritted out between clenched teeth, “I do believe it is.”

Noctis patted him on the shoulder. “Alright. Lemme just finish checking you over and then I’ll give you this potion, okay? I have to make sure there aren’t any other breaks.” He prodded around a bit more, drawing a slight wince from Ignis when he touched near the edge of the gash but otherwise not finding anything out of place.

“His pupils look even, Noct,” Prompto said quietly, having been staring at Ignis’s eyes for several seconds to make sure he didn’t see anything strange.

“That’s good. You feel like you have a concussion, Specs? Any dizziness, nausea, anything?”

“No, I don’t believe so.” Ignis coughed again, quietly. “And before you ask, today is May twenty-fifth, my name is Ignis Stupeo Scientia, you are not holding up any fingers, and we are currently in your apartment – on the bathroom floor, more specifically.”

Prompto huffed a laugh, and beside him Noctis snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I get it, you’re fine. Alright, Prompto, help me sit him up.”

Prompto did so as carefully as he could, looping an arm across Ignis’s back and under his arms so he could pull him into a sitting position without jostling his injured wrist.

Noctis sighed. “Alright, Ignis, you know the drill. I have to keep your wrist in the right position while you drink the potion so everything heals where it should. You ready?”

“Of course.” Ignis extended his hand, biting back a pained sound when Noctis took hold of it.

Prompto reached down and grabbed his left hand, squeezing it gently and feeling Ignis squeeze back while Noctis poked and prodded and turned his wrist until everything was back where it should be. Without needing to be asked, Prompto picked up the vial of potion lying on the floor beside Noctis, momentarily releasing his grip on Ignis’s hand to uncork it before slotting their fingers back together.

“Alright, Specs, ready?” Noctis asked.

“As I’ll ever be, I suppose,” Ignis said drily.

“Bottoms up, Iggy! Chug! Chug! Chug!” Prompto teased, holding the vial up to his lips for him since he currently lacked access to either of his hands. Ignis didn’t dignify that with a response and downed the potion four quick gulps, only to be thrown into a fit of coughing as soon as he had done so.

“Whoa, whoa, easy!” Prompto thumped his back hard a couple of times before it became apparent that wasn’t helping and settled for rubbing between his shoulder blades instead. “I didn’t mean you should drink it so fast you choked, dude! You alright?!”

“I’m –” Ignis broke off into another bout of coughs, so hard that by the end of them he was visibly trying not to gag. He took another moment to catch his breath, face red and eyes streaming with involuntary tears, and then tried again. “I’m alright. It’s only this thrice-blasted cold, nothing to be concerned about.”

“Ah-ha!” Noctis exclaimed triumphantly. “So you _do_ admit you’re sick!”

Ignis’s eyes widened, his face going a few shades paler beneath the feverish flush. “I… Oh, drat.”

“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought. You have _got_ to stop doing that to yourself, Ignis! Insomnia isn’t going to fall down in a day if you need a break!”

“I… apologize,” Ignis sighed. “I merely wanted to ensure the two of you had a chance to celebrate completing your first year of high school. I was certain I could power through until this evening, and then I would have all weekend to rest.”

“Aww, Iggy,” Prompto whispered, nearly in tears. He seriously didn’t know what to do with how kind Noct and his retainers were sometimes. They were more than a guy like him deserved.

Noctis smiled and rolled his eyes, giving Ignis a one-armed hug. “We appreciate it, Ignis, we do. But it could have waited until you were better; we would have understood. Now, no BS this time, how are you feeling?”

Ignis seemed to deflate, the events of the day having apparently caught up with him all at once, and rasped, “Positively dreadful.”

“I bet,” Noctis said sympathetically. “And if you keep pushing on until that cold turns into bronchitis like last time you’re going to feel even worse. So here’s what we’re gonna do: you are going to stay here with us for the weekend and rest –”

“Noct, I couldn’t possibly intrude on –”

“So help me, Ignis, I will make it a royal decree if I have to! You are not to set foot outside this apartment until Sunday night, because you can’t be trusted to go home and take it easy like you need to. You’re going to let me finish dinner, get into bed, take it easy, and let us take care of you because we care about you and you need it. Is that in any way unclear?”

“No, Your Highness,” Ignis reluctantly said. “However –”

“Ignis,” Noctis growled in warning. “Royal. Decree.”

“I was only going to say,” the advisor held up a hand, “that I do draw the line at monopolizing your bed for the weekend. It will wreak merry havoc with your back.”

Noctis sighed. “Alright, fine. Then you’ll sleep on the sofa. Prom, you good with sharing my bed?”

“Sure, dude! You’d better be prepared for an all-night King’s Knight session, ‘cause I’m ready to play ‘til dawn!” He turned his attention back to Ignis, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “You ready to move to the couch, Iggs Benedict?”

“Please.”

They got Ignis settled quickly, Noctis brewing some chamomile tea from a box in the cabinet while Prompto bundled him up in what was probably about five too many blankets. Eventually, all that was visible over the mound of fabric was his glasses and hair. The roast was placed in the oven at precisely five o’clock with the timer set for two hours, per Ignis’s instructions. While they waited for it to cook, Prompto and Noctis snuggled up on either side of the advisor, only letting him up to use the bathroom or refill his mug of tea. They hopped between a few channels on the TV for a while, willing to put the Assassin’s Creed marathon on hold (as fun as it was to play, they had a feeling Ignis would enjoy it much less as a mostly-unwilling spectator.)

Eventually they came across a nature documentary about a flock of wild Chocobos living high in the mountains. Prompto was immediately enraptured from the moment the first downy chick popped out of its egg, and thankfully neither Noct nor Ignis protested watching it. They took a break to retrieve the roast from the oven, forcing some of the meat and potatoes into Ignis and plying him with cold medicine, and then they bundled back up together to relax for the rest of the evening and observe the daily lives of wild Chocobos.

Ignis nodded off sometime between the lead rooster of the flock – a brilliant white one named Cloud – capturing his first two brood hens from a rival flock and a whole group of the birds being lured into a trap for a government-funded population control program. Prompto only noticed when he felt a sudden weight on his left shoulder, and he glanced over to see Ignis curled up against him, glasses askew and mouth hanging open as he snored ever so softly.

After snapping a quick selfie on his phone (Gladio would never believe this without photo evidence) he turned to Noctis and whispered, “Hey, buddy? I think this is our cue to head to bed.”

Noctis turned toward them and chuckled behind his hand, before nodding and helping Prompto get out from under Ignis without waking him. They gently picked up his feet and laid him out on the sofa, sliding a pillow under his head and taking off his glasses before setting them carefully on the coffee table. Prompto removed some of the blankets, not wanting him to get too hot while he was knocked out on cold medicine, but made sure to leave the biggest, fluffiest comforter and tuck it in around him.

Mission completed, they snuck off to get changed and head for bed themselves. They still had a few rounds of King’s Knight planned, after all, and they didn’t want to risk disturbing Ignis when he so rarely let himself relax. Prompto grinned as he turned off the living room lights, grateful beyond measure to have such incredible friends in his life. It gave him warm fuzzies like he couldn’t believe, and when he fell asleep hours later, the Prince of Lucis cuddled against his back like a snoring Noct-opus, it was with a smile on his face, knowing that for the first time in a long time he was _home_.

And come morning, if Ignis happened to find out they’d turned off all of his phone alarms so he couldn’t wake up before them and try to make them breakfast, well… They’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Why does Iggy have to be so fun to whump? He's just so adorable, especially when he's getting cared for by his best bros! <3
> 
> Also, "Cupiditas" is Latin (or in this case, Insomnian) for "greed." Just in case anyone was wondering.


End file.
